


Take the Reigns

by unsuccessfulpacifist



Category: overwatch
Genre: Blindfolds, F/M, Fingering, Handcuffs, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 14:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16409993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsuccessfulpacifist/pseuds/unsuccessfulpacifist
Summary: An exercise in trust.





	Take the Reigns

**Author's Note:**

> Because this tag needs more meaningful smut apparently

“Are you sure, darlin’?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Then we can try some other night—“

 

“No! I’m… it’s fine. I’m ready.”

 

McCree eyes her unsurely where they sit on the couch. Sombra had climbed in his lap and straddled him, hands on his chest as he speaks. “I’m not pushin’ you.”

 

“You’re not, I promise.” For emphasis, she twists her hips to grind against him. His breath goes shallow and he nods. 

 

“What’s the safeword?”

 

“I told you—“

 

“Humor me.”

 

She sighs, carding her hand through his hair with a heavenward flick of her eyes. She’s not annoyed, though, as much as she plays at it. She appreciates his caution, his commitment to keeping her as comfortable and safe as possible. 

 

“ _ Miedo. _ ” 

 

It might be a little on the nose, but it feels less ridiculous than “airplane” or “rooster.” She had never realized how inelegant so many English words sounded until they had been selecting a workable safeword.

 

“Good girl.” He grins when she does, hands on her hips and lips catching against hers. There’s a sweet edge to his affection that could rot her teeth. Who knew he had such a soft side under all the rough and tumble exterior? 

 

He sweeps one hand under her and the other wraps around her upper back, pulling her closer to him as he slides off the couch. He lifts them both upright and Sombra laughs from where she clings to him, legs wrapped around his waist. 

 

The cowboy carries her to his bedroom, a decent space she found herself in rather often. It’s not particularly decorated in any way to differentiate it from the other living quarters they were stuck with, but it has a certain atmosphere that is decidedly comfortable. 

 

He sets her on the edge of the bed and she lets go as he does, sitting back against the already rumpled sheets. 

 

Jesse paces towards the closet and picking through a few things before he glances over his shoulder. “Ready?” 

 

She would find his constant need to reassure himself of her consent adorable if she weren’t beginning to lose a bit of her bravado.

 

“Come on, come on. I’m going to get bored if you keep me waiting.” 

 

He turns, then, one hand carrying a box and the other smoothing his hair back. “Take your clothes off.” His tone takes on a commanding edge and she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t effective. 

 

The hacker was only wearing a loose t-shirt and shorts, but quickly sheds them both, leaving her huddling in on herself ever so slightly. 

 

He climbs onto the bed and she hears the box rattle faintly. A moment later, there’s cloth covering her eyes and he’s thorough about making sure she can’t see a thing. Facing the impending events, her fingernails bite into her palms as she curls her hands into fists. 

 

Slow breaths, in and out. He ties the blindfold off and presses closer, drawing her back against his chest for a moment. His beard scratches lazily against her neck as his lips wander along the slope of her throat and shoulder. 

 

One calloused hand slides up from her waist and cups at her breast, teasing her nipple between two fingers with a roll and a pinch. 

 

She’s no stranger to being rough in bed, but this sacrifice of control is uncharted territory for her. She’s sailing off the map and it terrifies her, but beneath that is a fearful excitement. Pushing her limits; testing her resolve. This had been her idea, after all, and McCree had taken some convincing. 

 

He settles back then and she catches her balance to sit upright on her own as his hand withdraws the rough warmth from her skin. The bed shifts and shakes under his movements behind her, and eventually he returns, guiding her back towards the headboard. She swallows back unease and lets him lead her until he pauses. 

 

“Lay down, on your back.” 

 

She complied with this too, feeling her head rest against her favorite of his pillows. It’s the little things that abate her fears and lets her keep going.

 

He moves over her; she can feel the bed dipping on either side of her body, and her hands are drawn up one at a time by his own hand around her wrist. Each one feels the cool steel of the handcuffs lock into place. She tests them both once they’re set up and they hold fast. A fact that satisfies her and frightens her in one fell swoop.

 

She shifts a little, the air chilly against her bare skin. Their first step is a small one in theory, but in practice it feels monumental. She’s relinquishing the control she  _ needs,  _ leaving herself physically vulnerable beneath him. It’s not about the sex as much as it is about trusting someone other than herself.

 

It’s not easy, but she’s not given too long with her thoughts before his hands brush against her body again, rubbing at her sides. 

 

“Goddamn, darlin’,” his voice rasps, lips brushing her collar. “You’re so damn gorgeous.” 

 

His words, not for the first time, leave a faint flutter in her chest and stomach. She smiles. It’s easier this way, baby steps. 

 

She shifts her leg and feels his knee planted against the mattress between her own, and she lets it rest there for a few moments. The contact is nice, even if his palms are still warm and soothing as they track up and down her sides. 

 

“You’re teasing me,” she complains, body adjusting beneath his and trying to eek out more of his touch and attention than he was currently providing. 

 

“I never get to tease ya’,” he chuckles, breath hot on the dip of her collarbone. “Not that I don’t love a partner who knows what they want and takes it.” He kisses her skin, dipping lower and moving down to mouth at her nipple, tongue flicking over it and swirling around it.

 

She feels more responsive, more aware of each point of contact, arching into the wet heat of his mouth with a soft noise. 

 

His hand, now still against her hip, moves again, sliding between her spread legs in order to trace an all too light finger against her slit.

 

“Oh, darlin’...” His voice is sugar sweet as he croons over her. His teeth graze her nipple and she bites the inside of her cheek to stifle a quiet moan. It’s only half successful. She can all but  _ feel _ him smirking into her breast.

 

His index finger grows a little bolder, pressing between the wet folds and seeking out that spot that makes her breath catch. He finds it as he kisses his way to the other breast, lavishing similar attention to this one as he did the first. 

 

Her hips buck into the contact and she lets her head fall back all the way, though the handcuff links rasp against each other as she tugs at them. She wants to card her fingers through his hair, touch him, guide him,  _ control him _ . 

 

He works his finger against her clit in tight circles that have her squirming in under a minute. The noises she makes are partly contained, but her effort to remain quiet is halfhearted. She knows damn well how hard he can get in response to the sounds she’s prone to making.

 

“Querido,” she’s breathing heavier now, but that doesn’t stop her from speaking up. She hesitates on the next words, but says them anyway. “I’m being good, don’t you think,  _ papí?” _

 

He’s got a weakness for that word and his lips and tongue falter against her chest. She swears she hears him breath a curse and the woman smiles. Even like this, he’s allowing her some control, whether or not he intends to. It’s a small movement forward, the physical restraints, but he’s still concerned about forcing her past her comfort zone… Even if that is exactly what she’s asked of him. Someday they’ll push further, but today is the first step in the right direction.

 

And then he’s diving his finger lower and pressing into her, burying it up to the last knuckle. It has the intended effect of making her twist with a gasp. She offers him a moan and finds herself rewarded with movement, the first finger working into her at a quick, maddening pace. She’s eager for more but doesn’t push her luck. He’ll stop just to rile her up if she isn’t careful. She needs to be clever about it. 

 

She’s busy devising a plan but hardly misses the addition of a second finger. He scissors them lightly, working her open with purpose now. Anticipation builds in her chest and she keens for him. He groans, the sound like a rumble of thunder caught in his chest and throat and just as dangerous as the lightning a storm can bring, and she knows she’s playing her cards right. 

 

He’s got a soft spot for dirty talking, for communicating pleasure in any fashion, really. She can’t help but use that to her advantage alongside the shift of her hips that meets his motions halfway. “You feel so good,  _ papí… _ So sweet to me…”

 

“Just as sweet as you taste, honey.” He slides his fingers out of her and, the next thing she knows, they’re at her lips. She wastes no real time letting him slip the two into her mouth and makes quick work of cleaning them off with her tongue. When she finishes, she sucks lightly on them just for the quiet,” Fuck,” that it draws out of him.

 

McCree pulls back, then, and she feels his weight straighten up, the mattress dipping a little lower between her legs. She can hear his ridiculous belt buckle scrape at itself as he undoes it and the sound is like electricity at the base of her spine. It courses through her and leaves her breathless, worrying her lower lip between sharp canines. The zipper is next and then a relieved noise from above her. He’s been achingly hard for awhile now, knowing damn well he’s been halfway there since she started to rock her hips against his lap earlier. 

 

“Jesse,” she breathes his name as he traces his free hand along the outside of her thigh. “Jesse,  _ please.” _ It’s uncommon for her to plead with him, so it's not surprising that it leaves him hoisting her legs up around his hips. She  _ is  _ surprised, however, to feel that he’s still mostly dressed, oddly enticed by the idea that he couldn’t wait long enough to fuck her properly  _ and  _ get his clothes off that he didn’t bother undressing fully.

 

The feeling of his cock presses against her and she immediately rocks into it, trying to coax him deeper than the shallow rut he gives her. He stills his hips immediately, clicking his tongue in reprimand. “Tch, be good, darlin’.”

 

“ _ Lo siento _ ,  _ papí…”  _ He, frustratingly, doesn’t move, holding her hips now with both hands. The flesh of his normal arm is warm— a stark contrast to the cooled surface of metal fingers on the other. She wants to roll her body against his, but obediently stays still. The point of this isn’t exactly discipline, moreso the challenge to herself to behave. She’s uppity by nature, so it’s easier said than done. The urge to move thrums in her veins alongside the heat of muted pleasure and anticipation.

 

“Good girl,” he nearly purrs the words and she has little time to appreciate them before he rocks his hips flush with hers in one surprisingly graceful thrust. He fills her— completely, almost painfully— and goes motionless once more, metal hand stroking her side gingerly as he groans. The sound’s low in his throat and sends chills up her spine, almost as good as the feeling of him seated perfectly inside her. 

 

It’s a song and dance they know by now: the way the other moves, what they like, and what they love. There’s something different about it though, the way her body jolts and twitches under every unexpected touch of his hands as he greedily brushes them over her body. He’s admiring her and she has no qualms with that normally, but _ presently _ she would prefer he fuck her already, growing ever so impatient.

 

She makes soft noises, trying to encourage his hips to roll against her own, legs squeezing against his body where he’s positioned between them. He taps her sternum with a metal index finger and chuckles again. “S’alright, darlin’. You’ll get what you want.” 

 

She always did, after all.

In the end, he’d cave to her in a heartbeat— even now, he technically was doing precisely what she’d been asking of him. She finally shifts her hips with a groan, tight and hot around his cock. “Come  _ on!” _

 

There’s a growl that meets her badly concealed desperation and she stills instinctively in response. He’s leaning over her a heartbeat later, forcing her legs towards her chest and grabbing her arms to pin her still against the sheets.

 

“Don’t forget who’s in charge.” It’s uttered in her ear, low and dangerous, and her breath catches hard in her throat. She likes the way McCree can turn to steel, cold and sharp and deadly. She knows she’s safe though, and it helps immensely to relax when her instincts tell her to fight back.

 

She waits, but his pause indicates he wants an answer. The hacker nods, uncertain, and is rewarded with a swift and brutal roll of his hips that drives him deeper still. She lets her head fall back and a pitched cry leave her, but his breath is hot on her the curve of her throat once more.

 

“Say it. Tell me who’s in control.” 

 

A hesitation on her part is met with one hand wrapping around her neck, forcing her head further back and cutting the oxygen off partway— just enough that the world starts spinning and she can feel her heartbeat when she swallows. It’s stupid, it really is, but a note of fear insidiously rises amid her pleasure and threatens to choke the safeword out of her.

 

But she’d lose the game she’s playing with herself, then, and she can’t have that.

 

So she parts her lips and forces out soft words, made rough by the pressure on her throat. “You are,  _ papí.”  _

 

Satisfied, he wastes no time in rocking into her again, quick and hard enough to shake the bed under them. She cries out again as he relaxes his grip, whining soft and sweet along to the rhythm of his thrusts. He finds a faster pace that keeps her quiet and sticks to it, the occasional grunt or growl punctuating the way he fucks into her. She tenses when he tightens his grip around her neck and she arches for him, addicted to the way he groans low in the back of his throat in response to the way she squeezes around his length. 

 

She’s getting a rush from the periodic release and tightening of his organic hand around her throat. It’s enough to leave her seeing spots in her vision, but he’s careful even now— careful not to go to far and actually hurt her. 

She almost wishes he wasn’t so careful with her, but that’s a conversation for another time. 

 

The Latina can feel an orgasm coiling up inside her, twisted tighter and tighter the hard and longer he drives himself into her. The sound of skin slapping against skin joins the creak of the wood and box springs of the bed. She’s keenly aware of every sound they make together, senses relying on the remaining ones to do the job her sight can’t. 

 

He angles his hips, changing the way his cock presses into her until he finds the angle he wants. The angle that has her toes curling and a sharp whine leaving her throat. He does his best to keep his length dragging over and pressing into that perfect spot, leaving the poor hacker at a loss for coherence.

 

As her thighs shake against his hips, body tensing and twitching around him, he choked her harder. The blood pools behind her covered eyes and she can feel her pulse throbbing in her neck. She’s so close and as if on some queue, he released his hold on her. The rush of oxygen to her head shocks her system as she comes, shamelessly grinding against him as she rides it out against each of his thrusts. She moans, wanton and unabashed, carries along by the way he fucks her through it.

 

“That’s it, baby,” he’s bent over her again, one hand pressing down the mattress to the side of her head. As she comes down, she feels him hike her leg up with his other hand, metal bruising the smooth skin of her thigh. She’s panting now, too breathless to manage anymore words for him, but he seems satisfied with her silence for now. 

 

He switches his arms, draping his metal forearm beside her head as the other delves between their bodies to find her clit, clumsy but effective circles hitching the breath hard where it shakes from her throat. 

 

“ _ Papí!”  _

 

“Gonna make you come for me again, darlin’. Be a good girl, now.” She doesn’t have too far to go, body quivering and strung tight as he winds that spring inside her back up. 

 

She gasps out his name and she can hear the grin in his breathy words. “That’s it. Come for me, sweetheart. God, I love the way you feel…” She would kiss that smirk off his lips if she could, but she’s distracted by her second orgasm as it washes over her. 

 

Her body all but milks his cock against and this time he doesn’t hold back, thrusts erratic and hard as he spills himself into her. The heat floods inside her as he finishes, the hacker whimpering as he fucks out the last of his cum and falls still over her. 

 

For a few precious moments, their twinned breathing is all that she can hear over the soft ringing in her ears. She goes lax against the bed, legs slipping down his hips until her feet strike the sheets.

 

He pulls himself out of her and she can feel his body heat retract as he sits back. How he stayed clothed for this, she’ll never know. The both of them could use a shower, that’s for sure. Sombra can feel his cum drip out of her, and while the act of him filling her up turns her on something fierce, she could do without the aftermath. 

 

At least Jesse has always been rather attentive about what came  _ after.  _

 

She lets her breathing slow and waits for what comes next with a hazy attempt at attentiveness. Finally he moved and she feels him leave the bed. A moment later the handcuff to her left wrist clicks loose and her arm falls limp above her head, resting against the pillow. He undoes the other and only then does she reach out for him, fingers curling possessively at the air. 

 

He climbs back on the bed, slotting himself at her side as she pulls him in by the shirt front and kisses him blindly. They stay like that for a moment, locked together and content, before they both need to breathe and come apart. 

 

“Doin’ alright?” 

 

“Fantastic.” 

 

“That’s what I like to hear.” She can hear the self satisfaction in his tone, but the exhaustion too. He reaches for the blindfold and makes quick work of the knot, the silky fabric peeled from her eyes.

 

She tentatively blinks then open, readjusting to the light. His grin is the first thing she can make out and she rolls her eyes, though the smirk on her own lips betrays her affection.

 

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

 

“I’m not.” 

 

She gives him a look as she sits up,” Yeah, yeah, of course not.” 

 

“Honest, darlin’. I ain’t with me— all I did was what any man would love to have the chance to do with you. Nah. I’m just…”

 

She quirks a brow at that, reaching over idly to brush some of the hair slicked against his forehead back behind his ear. 

 

“Just?” She prompts, expectantly.

 

He scoops her up with his arms, dragging her closer with one beneath her knees and the other behind her back. He pulls her side flush against his chest and cradles her there for a moment. His tone takes in a tender note. “I’m just damn glad you want to trust me. I know it ain’t easy.”

 

She falls still, her inquisitive look faltering for one of uncertainty. Her heart seems to flutter in her chest before she lays her head on his shoulder. “Easier than I thought it’d be.” 

 

He buries a kiss against the top of her head, just beside the glowing lines of her neural implants.

 

“Goddamn. I love you.” 

 

She says nothing for a moment before she pulls back, socking him in the shoulder with one teasing hand. “If you loved me, you’d let me shower before you go trying to cuddle me.” 

 

He laughs, taking her reply as he always does. How he is this patient with her, she’ll never really understand. He lets her pull away and slip across the bed to the other side. She straightens up and stretches, glancing back as he drags his shirt off and discards it by the side of the bed.

 

“Hey,  _ vaquero.”  _ She pauses by the bathroom door, a hint of hesitance in the way she watches him. He peers over at her from beneath his disheveled mop of hair. He’s endearing beyond all reason, bringing a smile to half her lips. 

 

“I love you too.”

 

And with that, she disappears into the other room, letting the door shut softly behind her.


End file.
